Hemorrhage
by obsessedwithstabler
Summary: For eleven years she stood beside me, laughing, crying, trusting and protecting me. It was never an obligation to her. She did it because she cared about me, and too many times I took that for granted.


I don't really know where this came from, but here it is. I'd like some feedback before I continue it, but I do have an idea in mind of where to go with this. The title of this is from the Fuel song, which sort of inspired this. It's from El's POV, and it's definitely Kleenex territory! You have been warned! Enjoy, and please remember to review!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

EOEOEOEOEOEOEOEO

It's a funny thing, dying.

All our lives, we are taught to fear death and embrace life. Live it to the fullest, never take a second for granted. We hear those words all the time, but so few people actually live them. It's easier just to say the words than to actually live their meaning.

We, as humans, always think that death will never find us. We're too young, or we're a parent. We're a spouse, or we're a teacher. Death doesn't happen until you're old and feeble. Then it happens, and often we're taken completely by surprise, with no time to say goodbye to loved ones or to prepare ourselves.

But the truth is, death is inevitable. Whether we're one or a hundred, it can happen at anytime, anywhere, and to anyone.

My eyes crack open, and there's a blue sky above me. The bullet in my gut reminds me that I'm still alive, but the pain is fading. I blink.

"Elliot!"

Olivia... In my life, aside from my children, I've never had someone love me so completely, so unconditionally. Not even my wife in the first years of our marriage, when things were actually good. I never doubted that she loved me, but Olivia's love is something different entirely. There's an underlying current of devotion and passion that was never there in my twenty years of marriage to Kathy. She loves me completely, without question and with everything that she has in her.

For eleven years she stood beside me, laughing, crying, trusting and protecting me. It was never an obligation to her. She did it because she cared about me, and too many times I took that for granted.

El..."

Her face is suddenly hovering over mine, her features filled with worry and sheer terror as she yanks off her jacket.

I can't believe that I'm leaving my children, or her, like this. I've been a cop for most of my life, and to keep your sanity, you have to accept the fact that one day, you might not come home. I accepted that long ago, but I still never expected things to end like this.

"Come on, El," she pleads, and I hate myself for this, for being the one who is breaking her heart again. "Stay awake for me. Please."

Maybe it's better this way. I've already hurt her so much over the years, yet she's withstood it all. Every tear, every shout, every angry word.

I close my eyes for a brief moment as she applies pressure to my abdomen. She's begging me to stay with her, to just hold on for a few minutes longer. But I don't think I can do it. Not this time, even if it's the only thing I want. I don't want to leave her. I'm not ready to yet, but I keep feeling my tenuous grip on life slipping away.

"Stay with me, Elliot!"

A sudden jolt brings me back to awareness, and I feel her lift my upper body up and cradle me in her arms. I don't want to die, and as much as she's fighting to keep me with her, I think deep down she knows what's happening. But she's not going to let go of me without a fight. That's just who she is. Stubborn and determined at all costs.

Her hand is still applying pressure to my abdomen, but now it's less of a preventative measure and more of a comfort for the both of us.

I can feel her harsh breathing, and my eyes close again as she whisper, "I love you, Elliot. I love you so damn much."

God, I love her, too, but I can't find the strength to say the words. It's all I can do to lay my hand over hers before my exhaustion forces my eyes shut again.

Her arms tighten around me, holding me tighter as if to tether me to this very spot and keep me from ever leaving her. Please, God, I don't want to leave her like this. But if I'm not going to survive this, I'd rather be right here in her arms than anywhere else. My life belongs to her and my children, and no one else. Not even myself.

She kisses my head, then gently cups my cheek in her blood stained hand. I study her intently, because I think that this is the last time I'll ever see her. Breathing is a hard task, and I know my body is giving up. She touches her lips to mine, and the emotion in the gesture is so overwhelming that we're both drowning in it.

The caress of her hand against my cheek barely registers in my mind as my eyes close for the last time. None of this is fair. There is still so much that I wanted to do, so much I still needed to say to her.

"I love you, El," she sobs, and it's the last sound I'm aware of as everything fades away.

There is nothing fair or right about dying, but the reality is that it's inevitable. And no one is exempt.

The End...?

A/N: Before you roast me alive over a warm bonfire, I have one question: Would you guys like more? Review!


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